What I Want
by Skalidra
Summary: Jason should probably never have told Tim that he wanted Dick to become more than just a guest in their relationship, or that he wanted Dick as his second Dom. But now that he has, of course Tim is going to make sure that Dick gets told that secret too. - Same universe/Sequel to 'A Little Incentive'.


So, this is another prompt fill! This was an anonymous prompt for number 45, "Tell me a secret." requesting JayDickTim, which just so happens to fit right into my Incentive universe! So, enjoy some lovely sub!Jason with fantastic BDSM! XD

 **Warnings** for: BDSM, Dom/sub themes, explicit sex, polyamory, and open relationships.

* * *

I really never should have told Tim. I mean, he deserved to know what I was thinking about Dick, but still. I should have kept it to myself a little while longer, or at least been a little more subtle about it.

Dick's been a guest in our bed and our relationship for a couple of months now. Not all the time, but every other time or so and whenever he can get away. He's been hot and strong and fucking _perfect_ , basically, and Tim probably knew some of what I was thinking anyway. Mostly, that I'm almost positive that I would be alright with Dick becoming a permanent part of our dynamic. I want him to be part of our relationship, and I want him as my second Dom. He's pretty damn good at it, and honestly I like the attention. Tim's goddamn perfect all on his own, but I can get twitchy about needing a distraction sometimes, and we've got pretty damn busy schedules a lot of the time. It doesn't always work out.

That's why I've had the open agreement with Tim since the very start of our relationship. We're both free to sleep with other people as long as we're honest about it, but he and I don't play with anyone else, and we don't _date_ anyone else. I have had some damn fun nights with Roy and Kori, but I don't touch the idea of subbing for anyone else. Except Dick, apparently.

Tim didn't seem all that surprised when I brought it up, but he did get _wicked_ . Now, usually I love it when Tim gets wicked, but less so when he doesn't tell me what's going to happen first. I still love him, and I _love_ what he does, but he can be kind of a manipulative little bastard sometimes. It makes things fun, but also occasionally a little bit painful. Like now.

Tim's holding my wrists down above my head, sitting to the side as Dick kneels between my legs — tied to the bottom corners of the bed — and does one of the things he's _very_ good at it. Mainly, being a tortuously slow mother _fucker_ as he fucks me, with that eternal smile and never ending patience to wait until I break. I know that Tim loves watching it — he's always been kind of a voyeur — and Dick loves being watched, so that all works out.

Honestly, I'm already fucking wrecked. They haven't let me move for most of this whole session, at least not on my own. They've been passing me between them for the better part of the night, either tying me in place or holding me down to whatever they want to do. I swear they talk about these things beforehand, and _fuck_ but the idea of them talking about and planning these things is out is a fucking wet dream all on its own. Just watching them kiss is enough to get me hungry sometimes, and they take full advantage of that fact.

Tim's already gotten off in my mouth twice, once to start things off and then another when Dick first started fucking me. He's really just here for the show at this point, and to do his part of holding me down and messing with me while Dick's busy. I've got little bruises all over my shoulders, and this time he's littered my arms with them too. Just one small drop in the pond for why I'm so fucking _desperate_.

I pull against Tim's grip, and he clicks his tongue and digs his fingers into pressure points in my wrists, making me gasp and wince. Dick chuckles — at least he sounds a bit strained — and rolls his hips at _just_ the right angle. I jerk, arch my neck as I grit my teeth together and strangle back a moan. Teasing _bastard_ . My thighs are already sore, and if I didn't know that the two of them are going to pretty much wait on me hand and foot after this that might concern me.

"Easy," Tim murmurs. "You can relax a bit for us, can't you, Jay?"

I bare my teeth in a small snarl, a thick shudder working down my back as Dick slides over my prostate _again_ , with just enough pressure to feel fucking _amazing_ without actually satisfying. A whine builds up behind my teeth, and I pull against the leather cuffs holding my ankles in place just to pull. No, I _can't_ relax. I am six times past worked up and I can barely fucking _think_ , let alone actually put any of my thoughts into words or try and _relax_ .

Dick's hands slide up my sides, his hips mercifully and _maddeningly_ still as his fingers graze over my skin. "Come on, little wing. Let go, give up. We've got you."

I meet his gaze, and having it put that way is _so_ much easier for me to understand. I shake for a couple of seconds, fighting the instinct that says to move, to _go after_ what I want, and then choke out something like a sob. I go limp, surrendering to their mercy and dragging in a deep breath, my eyes flickering closed.

"That's _good,_ " Tim whispers, one of his hands leaving my wrists and gently stroking through my sweat soaked hair instead. "You're so good, Jason. Can you beg for us? Just a few words?"

I choke on my breath for a moment, and then manage to pry my eyes open. My gaze falls on Dick first, and then I lift it up and back to find Tim. " _Please_ ," I gasp, and I can feel Dick's hands tighten just a touch on my waist. I look down at him, finding his eyes narrowed and hungry. " _Please,_ sir. _Please_ ."

Dick swallows as Tim hums his approval and strokes my scalp some more. I give in to the touch, letting my eyes close again. "Good boy," Tim praises. "Dick's going to fuck you now, Jay. You're not going to come until he gives you permission, understand?"

"Yes, sir," I breathe.

I can hear Tim moving, feel the shift of weight across the bed as he gets closer. His hand leaves my wrists, but a moment later his knee is pressing down across them instead, keeping me pinned down while freeing his hands. His hands slide into my hair, lightly scratching my scalp. At the same time, Dick's hands move down to my hips and tilt them up just a fraction. I give a small moan, tilting my head back into Tim's fingers.

Dick must lean down over me, because lips press against the center of my chest before he _finally_ starts to really move. My breath catches on a whimper as he pushes into me, holding me still by my hips as he thrusts forward. I can recognize the pace as chasing his own release, deep and fast, the thrusts sliding along my prostate more out of coincidence than out of any intentional aim. It's still more than enough with how worked up I am and have been for way too long. Tim's hands are a counterpoint, gripping my hair just hard enough to pull and burn in the most _amazing_ way before loosening again to trace over my scalp and then down onto my neck.

Luckily, this time it looks like Dick's control has already been stretched pretty thin. I don't even have to get any more ridiculously desperate before his rhythm stutters a bit. One of his hands slides off my hip and wraps around my cock, which drags a sharp cry from the bottom of my chest. I arch, unable to help it, my teeth gritting around a second cry as his hand strokes in time with his thrusts.

Dick laughs, bright and breathless, and then gasps, "That's it, little wing. _Come_ for us. _Now_."

I arch, writhe against both their holds, and then Tim's hand slips down and tugs at the back of the collar buckled around my neck. It pulls tight against my throat, my breath catches, and just like that I'm gone. My muscles tense up, pulling and arching as I shout towards the ceiling. Underneath it I can just barely feel Dick pushing hard into me, feel his grip tightening on my waist as he groans and lets go as well.

I come back to Tim stroking my scalp, his knee gone from on top of my wrists. Dick's slipping out of me, and I manage a small groan of protest and a shiver. Tim hums comfort, and then lips are touching mine and engaging me in a slow kiss. I don't have the mind to really reciprocate, but it's nice. Hands touch my left ankle, freeing it from the leather cuff and then doing the same to my right. Firm hands slide up my legs, and I give a second groan into what has to be Tim's mouth as the press of fingers wakes the dull burn of exertion in my thighs. Dick's hands rub into the sore muscles, and gentle lips follow as if they can soothe away the ache all by themselves.

I let myself stay lax as the gentle massage continues, and then through the touch of cloth over my stomach and down lower. Tim keeps me in his kiss the whole time, fingertips light over my scalp, neck, and jaw. He only pulls away when Dick lies down at my side, arm hooking over my waist and gently tugging me onto my side. Tim presses up against my back as Dick tucks my head underneath his chin, and I just let myself breathe and relax.

"Need anything, Jason?" Dick asks in a soft murmur.

I twitch my head in a small shake. " 'M good," I mumble.

There's a minute or so of silence — which I spend floating outside my own head — before Tim's hand lightly cards through my hair and tugs. Hard enough to get my attention, but not enough to even sting.

"Jay," he starts, lips pressing against the back of my neck, "why don't you tell Dick that secret you told me earlier today?"

I can feel Dick perk up a bit at the idea that there's a secret he doesn't know, can almost _visualize_ the small smile that's probably curling his lips. "I know what you're doing," I grumble, aiming it towards Tim. He's definitely using the fact that I'm still a little high on the endorphins to get me to say things I probably wouldn't otherwise, but I guess he wouldn't be Tim if he didn't.

"Come on, little wing," Dick says, pulling back enough that he can reach up and tilt my head back. I grudgingly open my eyes, and find that small, open smile and the honest happiness to his impossibly blue eyes. "Tell me a secret."

I pause for a moment, lost in that look, before I murmur, "I want you to be my second Dom."

Dick blinks, eyes widening in an expression that looks almost stunned. I can feel Tim shift behind me before he says, " _We_ would like you to officially join our relationship as a third. We're fairly open of course, but we want you to be more than a guest."

I turn my head, peering over my shoulder as I complain, "You didn't tell me you agreed."

Tim's smirk is the kind of wicked that always makes me shiver. "Well look at that; I've got secrets too." Then his gaze rises to meet Dick's. "You don't have to answer right now. Take whatever time you need to think about it, and even if you don't want to make it official, you'll still be more than welcome in our bed." I nod in agreement, shifting back against Tim and giving a small hum of approval when one of his hands rises to trace along my throat.

Dick's still for a long moment — almost enough to make me worry; I worry about their reactions more when I'm floating high — and then he gives a soft laugh. "I'd be honored," he whispers. "But, before I agree… I know it's silly, and really unnecessary, but…" I look up at him, and he meets my eyes. "I'd like to hear you say that without the collar on, Jason, some day when we haven't spent a couple hours driving you out of your mind. That's something I need before I can answer; is that alright?"

I can't help the smile that twists my mouth, and I barely think about it when I reach up and thread my fingers through Dick's hair, pulling him into a kiss. I don't let him pull back even when the kiss is done, I just rest my forehead against his and open my eyes so I can stare into his.

" 'Course, Dickiebird. Will do."

He gives a small gasp that sounds mockingly offended, but he's almost grinning. " 'Dickiebird'? Oh, I should punish you for that, Jason."

I laugh. "Save it for next time; I'm done for the night."

"Want the collar off?" Tim asks, lips pressing against the back of my neck for a second time. I lean back into it, closing my eyes and giving a small sigh of pleasure.

"Nah," I breathe. "Just no more play. Give me like, twenty more minutes or so."

Instead of answering, the two of them just press closer to me. Dick guides my head back underneath his chin, Tim slides his leg between mine, and I relax into their touch. I don't need anything else at all, at least not right now.

* * *

I'm up before Dick or Tim, as usual. Tim sleeps like the dead and Dick's never liked mornings even if he hides it under cheer and smiles, so he'll take the opportunity to sleep in whenever it's there. I'm not entirely sure why, but somehow my body just gets itself up at somewhere between eight and nine and that's when it decides I need to be awake. I make do with heavy naps later in the day to combat the decreased amount of sleep I get.

So I start coffee — the smell will drag both of them out of the bed once it gets circulating — and breakfast. Cooking was a skill I picked up from Alfred, on a hundred mornings where Bruce was still dead asleep and I didn't have school yet. I've got a soft spot in my heart for it, and everyone's testimony says that I'm good at it too. I'm the only one of the family — apart from Cass — that's allowed to help Alfred with anything more complicated than stirring a bowl (Dick isn't even allowed to do that much).

Tim is the first one to be lured by the siren's song, and he mumbles something like a good morning as I drop a plate filled with an omelet in front of him and follow it up with a cup of coffee that's got enough sugar in it I'm not sure it actually counts as that anymore. I start a second cup as well, because Tim's morning routine pretty much counts as substance abuse all on its own.

He downs the first cup, sips the second as he eats, and then has another after he's showered and actually awake since the first two have kicked in. At least he carries that third cup around with him — periodically reheating it — for about half the day, usually.

I swap his empty cup for the fresh one without a hitch, stealing a kiss from my still mostly comatose partner before I turn back to slide Dick's omelet onto a plate. Right on time, Dick slips through the door to my kitchen, and I set his plate down on the table before he's even there. Contrary to Tim's fuzzy pajamas, Dick is only wearing a pair of sleep pants. A fashion choice I _fully_ support as he moves towards me instead of sitting down, one hand sliding around my waist — I've got a tank-top and a pair of boxers on — and the other sliding around the back of my neck to pull me down into a soft kiss.

"Thanks, little wing," he murmurs against my mouth, and then gives an equally soft laugh. "You know, I could get used to this."

I grab his waist on either side, and _god_ it feels good to hear that tiny gasp as I pick him up and turn us, pressing him back against the counter. "Yeah?" I ask, flattening one of my hands against his low back and then mimicking his grip to grab the back of his neck. "Maybe you should." I slide my lower hand down to grab his ass, pulling him up and into my thigh as I pull a low rumble of a growl from the bottom of my chest. His breath catches. "I'm saying it again, Dick. I want you in this relationship, and I want you as my second Dom. But right now, I _really_ want to bend you down over that table and fuck you. So how about we eat, and then I can prove how fucking good mornings around here can be?"

Dick gives a soft moan, hips rocking forward against my thigh. "How about we skip the breakfast and just go straight to that?"

I snort, nipping at his bottom lip. "Because I make _damn_ good food, and if I fuck you over that table right now, we're going to spill Tim's coffee. Better not to wake the beast, you know?"

Dick's laugh is bright, and his fingers squeeze the back of my neck. "Fair enough. Looking forward to it."

I let him go, sliding my hand long and slow over his ass as I pull back. "Sit down, pretty boy."

"Not without me watching," Tim breaks in, in a low mumble. Honestly, that's more than I get out of him most mornings.

As Dick obeys my order and sits down I cross over to Tim, ignoring the sizzle of my own food for a second as I lean in and steal another quick kiss from him. "You better take a fast shower then, hm? You should make it back in time for the big finish; more if you hurry."

"Evil," Tim murmurs, and I give a small grin and ruffle his hair. That'll get me in trouble later, but I'm down for that.

"Pot, meet kettle. Eat your food, _sir_."


End file.
